Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Yosemite the cherry on top

            After a long and trying effort, I’ve managed to negotiate the famed Sierra Nevada Mountains.  I can’t tell you how relieved I am to have one of the most difficult sections of the trail completed, but it’s not without a little disappointment knowing that some of the most breathtaking views and scenery and some of the most beautiful people I’ve met are now behind me.  Ahead lie lower elevations, dryer conditions and higher mileage days.  If all goes to plan I should be approaching my Canadian goal at a more rapid pace from here on out.  

            Weeks ago I left the small city of Lone Pine for the second time to conquer Glen Pass.  At over 12,000ft, it had already turned me back once, but with better weather conditions and a more able and equipped group to hike with I would not be denied again.   It was after lunch by the time we managed a hitch to the trailhead, and after making my way over Kerserge Pass for the fourth time it was getting late so we camped just below 10,000ft at Charlotte Lake.   Still plenty cold out, we built a fire.  A campfire is always dependable for lifting the spirits of a weary hiker.  Around the small flames sat Adam Jones, Dan and Anna Pizzo (DNA), UK Andy West, Jon Michelle, and myself.  It is quite the inter-cultural group.  Adam, leaving his hometown of Brokenbow, OK to join the trail, put his firefighting career on hold to hike for the summer. He, Anna, and I made up the half of the group that is homegrown.  Dan of DNA grew up in Italy but then lived in England for a number of years before moving to the DC area where he met his wife Anna in her home state of Virginia.  Dan worked for a while as the assistant director of Georgetown’s outdoor edu. program, and Anna has work in a local prison ministry for a few years.  Next is UK Andy West.  You guessed it.  He’s from England.  He studied botany in college so he became our foremost expert on foraging wild eatables along the trail.  He also completed the Continental Divide Trail just last year through the Rocky Mountains.  Finally, Jon Michelle, a retired Frenchman, with a mixture of a retro pack and fancy high-tech gear usually brought up the rear of our international hiking train.  We made quite a team. 

            The next day we were up and over Glen Pass.  Our turning around the first time proved to be a good decision as the terrain was quite steep.  We all had our axes out and at the ready.  Taking it slow and steady we made it down without incident.  Only Andy had a slip but executed a perfect self-arrest with his pick.  Of the next four days, each had its own high pass to accomplish before we would be in Vermilion Valley Resort.  Next came Pinchot Pass, then Mather, Muir, and Selden.  All were over 11,000 ft with the exception of Selden at 10,800.  Most were pretty steep which turned out to be easier than we new at the time.  You would hike to the base and break out the ax, then kick steps till you got to the top and make your way down.  Pinchot was especially fun coming down, as there were wonderful opportunities to glissade down the snowy slopes.  Muir Pass was the most difficult in my opinion.  It was a very gradual slop up to the top, which translated into about three miles of snow travel on both sides of the pass. 

The weather was also very difficult through this section.  Everyday from Lone Pine to Tuolumne at some point in the day it would either rain or snow on us.  At each pass’ summit there were storm clouds waiting for us but none as bad as the one that turned us back early on.  When the sun did come out, however, every effort was rewarded.  The pictures cannot do justice to the panoramas that could be seen from such heights.  This is no doubt a very special area and I encourage everyone to hike it, but just wait till July. 

The other difficulty was the water.  After whining and complaining of a lack of water through the numerous desert miles, I would have never imagined that there could be too much.  Right in the middle of the spring melt; water was flooding off the mountainsides.  Streams were high.  We appropriately renamed the trail John Muir Creek as it was under water almost as often as it was clear.  At one point, creeks and lakes overflowing their banks, trout were swimming up and down the trail as we dredged through.  Happily in my waterproof, full-grain leather boots, I couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable the others must be in their soaking wet trail runners.  My boots are about two or three times heavier than their lightweight kicks but I did not envy the difference in weight in these conditions. 

Rain, snow, sleet, and all we made it to VVR.  There was a restaurant that was taken advantage of and small store.  They also let the first eight hikers take a large canvas tent so we quickly found our spots in case others lingered in.  It wasn’t a full days rest but sense we got into the resort early in the day we decided to hike on the next day.  We took a boat ride over the lake back to the trail.  There were a few more high passes over the next few days and we were in to Reds Meadows.  This was bitter sweet.  It was a nice stop but our group was splitting up.  DNA, UK Andy, and Jon Michelle were catching the bus into Mammoth Lakes for resupply but Adam and I decided to hike on.  He was hoping to make it to Tahoe to meet a friend and I was looking forward to Sonora Pass to get picked up to make it to a wedding. 

Away from the group now, the pace of the hike changed.  We were waking up a little later, hiking later into the evening, and making better mileage.  The weather was changing for the better as well.  We abandoned our tents under the starry skies.  Deer wandered close to our camp at dusk and we moved into Yosemite National Park.  In every direction there were granite dome peaks, beautiful alpine meadows, and fast moving rivers and waterfalls.   Several times river crossings demanded that we carry our packs above our heads and wade through the frigid water. 

I really enjoyed hiking with Adam.  We had a lot of great conversation and laughs.  Most of the time Adam, hiking at a much faster pace, would lead out and I would catch up later for a break or something.  All along the way it was hard to get over the beauty of the national park.  Tuolumne Meadows was incredible.  Its no wonder we saw more and more hikers the closer we got to the valley.  We made it to Sanora Pass a day and half early so I hitched into the central valley with some weekend campers and met up with Chase in Lodi.  It was nice to get back to San Diego for a bit after that and see my friend get married.  We had a lot of fun and I saw a lot of people, but I look forward to being back on the trail.  I’ll be moving as fast as possible.  I’d like to catch up to the group that I was hiking with before I took a break. 

I’m getting back on the trail tomorrow morning.  In a few days I’ll be stopping at Ecko Lake and then I’ll be on to Sierra City.  Hopefully I can make some friends with some car campers on the 4th and score a barbeque dinner or something.  I feel like I’m over a major hurdle and can’t wait to see what the trail brings next.  

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Forester on Down

I apologize for the extended intermission. When I tried to post the last entry the computer decided to delete the second half. So here I am, back in Lone Pine, to fill in the missing pieces and add a few bits that have transpired since.

If you haven't figured by now, I did make my way safely down Forester Pass. There was a technical, icy shoot at the very top that required, again, the use of my trusty ice ax. Puffed with confidence and pride for conquering the tallest pass we immediately deflated as we gaze across the completely snow-covered north slope of the pass. Retrieving our heads we looked to our maps and safely navigate the descent. Raining and cold, we made camp a few thousand feet lower, near the creek we followed off the pass.

The next day was filled with excitement. Dad was coming to visit during our rest day in Lone Pine. I couldn't wait to get going, but it was cold. I couldn't resist using the last of my fuel to make a hot cup of oatmeal instead of eating it cold like I usually do. Daylight hit the trail ahead of me and I walked quickly to catch up. We're looking for a junction to take over Kersarge Pass toward Independence where Dad should be waiting at the trailhead. Following a creek, down, lower, and dropping in elevation we eventually realize we were off track. Not only that but we had turned a 2500 ft climb into a 4000 foot-er by loosing so much elevation. Oh well, its all part of the experience, right? We finally make it down to the trailhead were good-old-reliable Dad was there waiting. I was so glad to see him. You wouldn't believe how a trip like this makes you miss your loved ones.

He took Daylight, Vince, and I into Lone Pine for some R and R. It was really nice to just be with my Dad. I still had the usual town chores to accomplish, but they were a lot more fun with my Dad there. We had a really good pizza dinner with some other hikers. Then, the next morning, after breakfast, Dad took us back to the trailhead. It was a short visit, but it was just what I needed. We were hiking up the trail and Daylight commented on the great relationship I had with my dad. I had to let the two go ahead of me because I thought I might tear up. The two days after my folks have visited me on the trail, whether I'm hiking with someone or alone, are the loneliest days on the trail. I miss them a lot.

That day was also quite difficult because it was snowing lightly when we were dropped off and it continued throughout the day. It snowed harder and harder with every hour. By the time we made it to Glen Pass, the only thing we could see was a sheet of white. There was no way we would be able to continue. We had to turn back. Turning back is the worst. You work so hard for each mile, to give them up is very depressing. But it was the safe thing to do, so you can't feel too bad about it. We dropped down about 2000 ft and made camp. It was a very cold night. In the morning, Daylight pointed out that the temp was 25. Vincent headed out for town again, but Daylight and I, with a beautiful, albeit cold day, decided to try again. The approach proved to be too unsafe that day. Snow had drifted, and the shoots were as icy as they could be. We too headed back to Lone Pine.

I'll set out for a third try tomorrow with DNA and UK Andy. We all have either crampons or ice axes so we should be able to make it, although the forecast gives a chance of more snow on the way. I thought that the desert was going to be the trying portion of the trail. I couldn't wait to get to the beautiful Sierra Mountains. Although they are amazingly beautiful, it has proved to be far more challenging than the desert. I'm excited to hike with DNA again. They are awesome and I think it will be a good group heading out tomorrow. Wish us luck. Pray for sunshine and safe travel. Dad it was good to see you and Mom you are dearly missed.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Altitudies

If you under-promise and over-produce disappointment has no hold to cling to. Anticipation and hype were all that surrounded my entering the Sierra Nevada Mountains, so there was apprehension that they might not live up to the the promises of beauty and scope of experience. One past thew-hiker even told me that no description, no matter how grandiose, could possibly do justice to the landscape I was set to enter, and you know what? He was absolutely right.

The day we left Kennedy Meadows we charged over ridge after ridge into a different meadow after meadow more grand and scenic than the previous. Crossing the South fork of the Kern River, your eyes follow it up stream to incredible distant mountains that beckon through cloud and mist. Gaining altitude increases the expanse of the view and shrinks your self-perspective. Feeling small and insignificant, the route seems daunting and impossible. 9000, 10000, 11000 ft and climbing, the vegetation changes and becomes more and more rugged. Trees seem to grow from solid stone, splitting or simply growing around rock and boulder. Ice cold alpine lakes and tarns, melted only days earlier, feed streams that trickle down to inviting meadows. Forests give way to snow capped peaks and steep icy spires. But the high altitudes that produce such beauty also produce new challenges.

Altitude creates very volatile weather conditions. As systems move eastward, wind currents and moisture must also navigate the lofty barracade. The sun's rays are quite powerful at such heights but are stifled drastically by the slightest cloud cover or shade. Temperatures fluctuate a great deal and layers are put on and torn off by the half hour. Days in we are hiking past Chicken Spring Lake. Late in the month of May, only a week earlier we craved a cool breeze, but now we search for our gloves and warm beanies. Then over 11000 ft it began to snow. Lightly at first, then increasing in volume. Nearly but not quite freezing, the flakes were very big and wet, saturating the air. We were soaked. Even with our rain gear the soggy cold clings as you drag it down the trail. Luckily, as quickly as it begin, it quickly ends and the sun and the views return.

The next two days would prove to be the toughest days of hiking so far. I guess I didn't think about it too much before hand and maybe that was best. The plan was to leave Crabtree Meadow and hike Mnt. Whitney, the highest peak in the lower 48 at just under 14500 ft, followed the next day by the highest pass, Forester Pass, the highest pass on trail at just over 13000 ft. So I leave the meadow and a couple hours in I catch up to Stinky Butt on his way up the mountain around Guitar Lake, 12000 ft. We are both glad to now have a buddy on this little side trip. There are a few snow shoots gliding down over the trail. Some I used my ice ax to cross and some we scrambled around through the rocks. It was a long climb over 4000 ft to the top but we made it. At the top we take cover from the light snow that was falling and cold wind in the old Smithsonian observatory that is still there from the late 1930s. On the way down the light snow turned to a full on snow storm. It was coming down and coming down heavy. The trail was quickly obscured, but I knew if I couldn't find the trail I could follow the water which drained back down to crabtree meadow. Back down below 11000 ft the snow turned to rain, and back on trail I had to catch up to Burning Daylight who only moved up the trail about 5 miles while I did my side trip.

Soaked to the bone and cold I hike quickly to generate some heat. The rain lets up for a time and I get to Wallace Creek, about 5 miles from our last camp. Ron should be here. He wasn't. The next creek is only a mile more so I hike on. At this creek I find a small soaking note in the trail from Ron with his location. "Go to Tyndall Creek and cross." Angry that he is farther than we discuss and completely exhausted from the agressive hike already accomplished, I locate Tyndall on the map. I become down right furious when I discover it to be over four miles away. At this point the rain decides to continue for my inconvenience. Not wanting him to think I was in trouble or something I hike to meet him. Disgruntled and cranky I struggle up to Big Horn Plattue. My bad mood is immediately lifted when the skies clear on top of the plattue to reveal one of the best views yet of the Southern Sierra. A small fox runs across the melting snow field to far away for a picture. The sun splitting the clouds with rays of yellow as it lowers toward the sharpened snowy peaks. I made it to camp not knowing that those same sharp snowy peaks were the same peaks I'd be crossing the next day.

After such a day, the next morning was a late start, not leaving camp until almost eight. We made a small fire to try and dry out some of our socks and the rest of our packs. Approaching Forester Pass, the snow was quickly warming and we would sink through the snow's crust on ocation. There was plenty of snow covering the step switchbacks so, ice axe in had we kicked steps straight up to the last thousand feet. This part of the trail was a foot and a half ledge carved right into the granite face. Peeking over the side revealed a breathtaking thousand foot fall or so.